A Long Expected Party
by LotRComedy
Summary: A humourous twist on the first part chapter of The Fellowship of the Ring. Currently in progress.


**A Long Expected Party**

In the land of the Shire, nothing out of the ordinary happened. No-one ever had any adventures or went looking for trouble; the inhabitants were peaceful, and not interested in any events that happened outside their little area. Even when several Nazgûl started dancing around in their new pink robes and singing "Ring-a-ring-a-Roses", the hobbit nearby didn't even bat an eyelid, far too interested in watching his delphiniums grow.

Hobbits were folk who loved country life. They reared goats, pigs, geese and the occasional emu or Bengal tiger. Many of them went about their days with an air of light-headedness, without any cares in the world.

Bilbo Baggins was fast approaching his eleventy-first birthday. He would be one of the few hobbits who had lived to such a ripe old age, and he was determined to live past the age of the Old Took, who was so old that his birthday cake had regularly collapsed under the weight of candles every year, and besides, it had always set off the smoke alarm. Anyone who had flung an age-joke at Bilbo had found themselves in intensive care following a swift heart-attack, because the hobbit seemed to be able to disappear, re-appear swiftly behind them and shout "Boo!"

Frodo Baggins was Bilbo's nephew, and shared his birthday, the 22nd of September. He had been raised by Bilbo himself, after his parents had died in a freak boating accident, where Drogo Baggins (Frodo's father) had tried to impress his wife by spinning an oar around in his hand like a baton, and had clobbered himself round the head with it and fallen over a waterfall. Primula Baggins had desperately tried to save him, and had even called out the lifeguard. The hobbit had arrived in an orange and grey lifeboat, paddling frantically. As he arrived at the scene of the accident, he hadn't been able to turn off the motor on his boat fast enough and had sent Primula cascading down the falls after her beloved.

Tents were being pitched in the great meadow in the centre of the Shire, and everyone was helping to prepare for Bilbo's surprise party.

Well, not exactly everyone. Some believed they were too important to be helping out because they were a main character, and spent their time sitting beneath a large tree reading a book entitled _Peter Jackson, the Autobiography_. Frodo pretended to be thumbing through the pages, making sure he held up the cover to the camera, ensuring that the price (Only £15.99 and your eternal soul!) could be seen by all. As he sat he heard a cart squeaking in the distance, and the mumblings of an old man.

He looked up, and saw a tall, hunched figure coming down the road on a wooden cart. A large blue hat was perched on his head, and he wore long grey robes. Unsure who this was, Frodo threw on a border patrol guard outfit and made his way to the grass verge.

"Stop!" he cried, holding up a podgy hand in what he believed the most threatening way possible. The figure pulled on the reins and slowly lifted his head. He was certainly old. Very old in fact. Possibly older than Bilbo. The character had a long grey beard, which was matted and had small bits of food lodged in from old meals. Frodo was sure he could see a frog's leg and a small amount of caviar in there.

Frodo made a beckoning gesture with his hand, and the figure fished in his robes for something. After removing a pickaxe, a bag of herbs, a cat, a hammer, a chainsaw, a carrot, a handful of nails, a pigeon, a mobile phone, a car, a Frenchman, a gun, a set of keys, a stereo system, a few leather-bound books, a hobbit, a copy of _Peter Jackson, the Autobiography_, a shirt, another bag of herbs, a spare staff, a small voodoo doll of Saruman, an axe, a full desktop computer with broadband facilities, a kitchen sink, an oven, a tent, a still-burning fire, a hippopotamus, an Orc, a stack of unpaid bills and a photo of himself with his arm around a wizard in brown robes, both laughingly heartily with mugs of beer in their hands, he handed a small red booklet to the hobbit.

Frodo took the stranger's passport and opened it.

_Gandalf the Grey_, it read.  
_Born: Far Too Long Ago - (We expect that the only reason he was not on Noah's Ark was because they could not find another animal that looked like him).  
__Occupation: Wizard  
__Address: N/A (although believed to sleep in ditches).  
__Affiliation: Sauron-basher_.

"So," Frodo said knowingly. "You're Gandalf."

The old wizard made no movement. He just blinked.

"You're late."

"A wizard arrives precisely when he means to!" was the angered reply. "Maybe I meant to be late."

"Have you anything to declare?" asked Customs Officer Frodo.

The wizard suddenly looked sheepish. "Declare?" he said in a high-pitched voice. "Why, no! Of course not!" His eyes darted left and right.

Frodo raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. "I'm going to look under the blanket in your cart."

Gandalf looked frightened. "No, no! Don't do that! It's not worth it, honestly." He did his best to grab the hem of the trousers of the hobbit as he walked past, but being very, very old, Gandalf missed by quite a distance and fell clean off his seat.

Frodo approached the blanket and whisked it off with great flourish. As he did so, a set of fireworks exploded in his face. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his mangled features as he heard an insane cackle and the wheel-spin of a cart as Gandalf sped off into the distance, standing atop his cart, and lightning crackling from his fingers. What an epic exit it would have been, had he not hit a recently added Shire Speed Bump, and been sent careening into a ditch.


End file.
